


Family

by ahimsabitches



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Baby Junkrat, Gen, Hog is in his mid twenties i'd guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9622730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahimsabitches/pseuds/ahimsabitches
Summary: Junkrat was just a kid when the Omnium exploded and took his mother away. This was a response to a prompt on Tumblr.





	

The little blond boy scrubbed at his dirty face with a dirtier fist, but it was reflex by now. Time and dehydration had stopped his tears. He sat in the last miserly wedge of noontime shade made by the gaptoothed eave of the barn, his legs– once baby-chubby, now matchstick-thin– stuck out into the diagonal sunlight in a crooked U.

In the sandy belly of the U, he drew with one finger: Mama, her hair long and her smile– Jamie’s favorite– filling up the bottom half of her balloon-head. He smiled a little too, then scrawled her eyes next: X and X, because…

Jamie’s smile fell and his slatted chest hitched. He swiped at his eyes again, but he only scraped gritted sand against the delicate skin underneath his eyes. Was he crying sand now? Why not? He was so thirsty, so very _thirsty,_ but the well round back of the barn hadn’t given water, not even muddy brown water, for two days. He knew he should move on, find another empty house with a mostly-empty well, but…

“But I’m so tired,” he told the stick-Papa in the sand beneath his finger, only half-aware of the whisper-rasp of his own voice. Jamie gave sand-Papa a smile big as Mama’s, even though Jamie didn’t really remember what he looked like. And an X and an X over his eyes.

Jamie didn’t actually _know_ if Papa was dead. He could be alive, and he could be looking for Jamie right now. He could have heard the big boom, the sound that at first hadn’t been sound but _light_ like a wall and then wind like a harder wall, the sound that had rolled out of the east and had flattened his and Mama’s house even though that didn’t make any _sense_ because how could _sound_ hit like a real thing? Sound wasn’t actually a wall; sound couldn’t do what it had done, and yet it had. It had blown their house flat and Mama had been inside and Jamie had been outside on the tire swing and had been pitched a ways away, easy as picking up a skipping stone and tossing it across the billabong. How Papa _couldn’t_ have heard a big boom like that was ridiculous. Jamie knew the whole world must have heard it, and they were just knocked over too. They had to get up and dust off before they’d come help him. But they’d come.

Papa would come.

Jamie stuck his finger in the sand between his exed Mama and Papa and drew another circle. But the sand didn’t look right. The shade of the awning had sliced neatly across one toe and the other thigh, but now it… swallowed his legs whole. 

Jamie looked up.

The giant man with a mop of black hair, a great big sloping belly, and strange markings– scars? tattoos? all over his face didn’t scare Jamie. His brain had gone fuzzy-white, like the clouds that the big boom must have scared away. Jamie’s head, fuzzy but _heavy,_ lolled back and his mouth gaped. “Yer not Papa,” he slurred. His mouth had said the words before his brain had told it to.

The giant man grunted. Rummaged in a pocket.

A sloshing metal canteen landed by Jamie’s right foot, and a crinkle-bag landed right on Papa’s head. Jamie blinked at them. The fuzzy-white in his head buzzed and sang. He was _so_ tired…

“Pork rinds. They’re good.”

The giant man’s rock-throated voice cut through the leaden white in Jamie’s head. “Huh?”

But the giant man’s shadow moved on and left the diagonal slice of sunshine that cut across Jamie’s right leg just above the knee.


End file.
